Sin Noticias de Dios
by argante
Summary: CH. 2 UP! A strange vision sends the Angel Investigations team -- plus an old friend -- to Sunnydale. Confrontations and complications ensue, as always. WARNING: Some swearing, implications of slash.
1. Prologue

Author: Argante ((ravened_faith@hotmail.com))  
  
Pairings: B/A ((Eventually)), C/Gu, W/T, X/S/F, Wes/Fred, Oz/Other, Other/Other.  
  
Spoilers: Everything and nothing. I'm fiddling with the timelines on both shows, so pretty much anything can be used. I'm also adding things to the seasons that, obviously, weren't in the shows. Hey, author's prerogative.  
  
Rated: R -- for the language, and also implied slash.  
  
Disclaimer: If you recognise it. it ain't mine. It's Joss's. All lyrics from Heather Nova.  
  
Distribution: He who asks a question is a fool for five minutes. He who remains silent is a fool forever. In other words, ask and you shall receive.  
  
Feedback: PLEASE!!  
  
Prologue  
  
~*~  
  
tonight my life is moving fast  
  
i sit and watch the demons pass  
  
a world i know but never seen  
  
a fear that ripped the colour from me  
  
It was a quiet neighbourhood, consisting mainly of ancient, crumbling buildings and dirty, dank alleys. Every once in a while, tires would squeal a few streets away or a cat would knock over a garbage can lid, creating a clatter that sounded alien in the silence that fell with the night.  
  
As soon as possible, the streets were emptied of all human life -- it was almost reminiscent of an old Western town, the kind in the black-and-white movies. This particular LA neighbourhood knew a lot about the things that went bump in the night, and they avoided the darkened streets at all costs. So at 2 am, the streets were deserted.  
  
Mostly.  
  
She was running as fast as her tired, weakening legs would let her, and her surroundings flew past in one long, coloured blur. She pushed her body harder, flying at an inhuman pace down the street. She pulled a garbage bin out behind her as she flashed by and let it roll across the street behind her, and was rewarded by a large crash as her pursuer stumbled over it.  
  
Shivering at how close behind her he was, the brunette ran even faster, ducking into a grimy back alley at the very last minute. She fell straight into an easy battle stance in the shadows of the derelict apartment building, waiting. Her advanced senses picked up the heavy footsteps of her attacker as he approached, and at just the right moment her tightly clenched fist flew straight out, efficiently clothes lining him. She was on him before he had the chance to regain his senses, swinging this way and that. One booted foot swung forward and made solid contact with the side of his head.  
  
While he was still attempting to regain some semblance of awareness, she reached forward and took his green, horned head in her battle-scarred hands, swiftly pulling it to the opposite side. A loud crack resounded through the empty street, and the woman stumbled back, wiping the sweat from her brow. She turned to return down the street, only to run straight into a solid wall of muscle.  
  
"Gah!" She backed up and fell into a fighting stance out of habit, looking up at the man in front of her. Her vision was clouded, but as she gazed up she met deep, dark pools of sadness, wisdom and guilt. They were familiar, those eyes, and her fatigued brain grasped a hold of that feeling and clung to it tightly -- even if they were the wrong colour.  
  
"Alex?" she asked, trying to see through the haze around her. Her voice was tinged with hope and desperation, even to her own tired ears, and it was that sound that snapped her to attention. She blinked hard and shook her head, dispelling the illusion. "No. Not Alex, of course not Alex. It's never Alex. Hasn't been, never will be, probably couldn't even remember..." she babbled, incoherent from both exhaustion and disillusionment.  
  
She made her way around him and back towards the alley, stopping to lean heavily on the brick wall in an effort to regain her equilibrium. She managed to take several more steps on her trembling, unsteady legs before she collapsed, and the entire world went black.  
  
*~*  
  
come to moon, floating like a fish  
  
come to first star, who'd have thought it'd come to this  
come to stranger, wants to know my name  
  
come tomorrow, i still feel the same  
  
"Angel, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we have absolutely no idea who -- or what, for that matter -- she is, or why she was being chased or anything. I mean, she could be dangerous. The only thing we have to go off is a 'feeling' that you know her from somewhere. Newsflash! You're two and a half centuries old. You've met a LOT of people."  
  
"Cordy, our motto is 'we help the hopeless', right? So, we help. Her."  
  
"Okay, you're the boss. It's your call. I just hope you know what you're doing. I gotta go, but I'll be back later okay? And Angel?"  
  
"Yeh?"  
  
"Just be careful, ok?"  
  
Her muscles felt like jelly and her head was killing her. The muffled conversation drifted in to her and drilled into her head with such force she could hardly make out the words, almost as if she had a major hangover. As she slowly emerged from sleep, she began to notice differences in her environment. She was lying in a large, soft bed, and sun was streaming in from the open windows. It was beautiful, a sensation she wasn't really used to, considering how her apartment... Her apartment didn't have windows! Or a bed, when she thought about it. Not really.  
  
She sat bolt upright and flicked her eyes around the unfamiliar room, taking a few seconds to survey the room before propelling herself up from the bed. Her battered denim jacket was lying nearby, and she slid it on easily. All her stakes were there, and so she slipped her boots on quickly. They were laced quickly, her finger flying over the familiar loops and knots, and she was headed for the door seconds after awakening. The door opened soundlessly -- another thing her apartment lacked -- and she was heading down the corridor quickly, not looking anywhere but straight ahead.  
  
"You going somewhere?" came a deep, velvety voice to her left. The voice was soft and rhythmic, and so very familiar that she almost broke down at the sound of it. She knew that voice. In another time and place, she'd known this man. Taking a deep breath and making sure to keep her glamour wrapped around her securely, she turned to face the man who'd rescued her last night.  
  
"Ahh, yeh. Out, actually. As in, y'know, to my apartment. It was good of you and all, taking in a stranger. I'm sure it's made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside to do someone less fortunate a good deed, but I don't need your charity. Or your help."  
  
"Fair enough. I can see how it might look that way. The name's Angel, by the way." He thrust his hand towards her, but she just stared at it, crossing her own arms over her chest.  
  
"Lauren," she replied, still not accepting the proffered hand. Taking the hint, Angel withdrew his hand, but not his searching gaze. He didn't recognise me, she thought, even when I gave him my name. She wasn't quite sure if she was disappointed or relieved.  
  
As Angel studied her, he noted objectively that she was actually quite pretty. He hadn't had the chance to look at her the night before, but he did now. She had shoulder-length jet-black hair and deep auburn-brown eyes. Her skin was pale from lack of sunlight -- something Angel knew a lot about -- and she was rather short, not to mention skinny. She was so thin, in fact, that Angel was reminded of Fred after they pulled her from her cave; bordering on emaciated. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she was limping slightly.  
  
"Will you at least let me take a look at your leg before you go?" he asked. Lauren was hesitant, that much was evident, and Angel moved towards her slowly, keeping his movements predictable, careful not to touch her.  
  
"Please?"  
  
"Yeh, ok. Sure."  
  
He gestured to the stairs and she moved tentatively down them, carefully avoided the arm he offered. She shuffled into the lobby of the Hyperion and sat down, better enabling him to examine her injury. As he rolled the left leg of her jeans up, more and more cut and bruised skin was revealed to his gaze. She hissed in pain when he accidentally bumped a larger bruise, and he was immediately apologetic.  
  
"It's ok. I only got 'em yesterday, so they probably won't heal until tonight."  
  
Angel frowned. That wasn't natural healing. In fact, he only knew of two other people who healed that quickly: Buffy and Faith.  
  
Lauren gently straightened her leg, and Angel rolled it up past her knee. When her knee was fully visible, Angel sucked in an unneeded breath at the same time as Lauren gasped in pain. There was a patchwork of colours splashed across it, from purple to yellow to black. It was painful just to look at; he didn't want to think about how much that must hurt.  
  
"Fuck, that hurts like a bitch. Feels as bad as it looks, for once." At Angel's look, she continued to explain.  
  
"It dislocates all the time. All I can do is knock it into place every time it pops out. Hurts like hell and looks even worse for a little while, but the swelling usually goes down with some ice and the bruises fade."  
  
"And you've never considered seeing a doctor about it?"  
  
"Yeh, sure. I'll just tell him that the reason my knee spends half its time five centimetres out of place is because I kick demon ass on a regular basis. I can see that going down real well. Besides, I could never afford the operation."  
  
Angel said nothing, rising from his crouch to retrieve the first aid kit behind the counter.  
  
"Y'know, I'm perfectly capable of patching myself up." Angel ignored her, pulling out a long bandage and binding her knee tightly in place.  
  
"There. That should keep your kneecap in the right place for a while. Until then, I'd suggest that you rest. You're more than welcome to stay here, if you want. We have plenty of space, and very little visitors -- usually." Lauren stood slowly and flashed him a sad but grateful smile.  
  
"No thanks. I'm dieing to get home and collapse into my own... sofa. How far is the subway from here?" she asked, shifting her weight off of the most injured leg.  
  
"Not far. About a block or so. But I'd be more than happy to drive you, if you'll just wait until nightfall. Or one of my employees will when they return, which shouldn't be long."  
  
"No, I really have inconvenienced you enough already. And like I said, I don't need your help. I got this far on my own, I think I can manage a walk to the subway station, don't you?" she mocked half-heartedly. When Angel maintained his stoic silence, her gaze flickered around the lobby with barely concealed nervousness.  
  
"Alright. But at least take this," he said, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a business card.  
  
"If you ever need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call," he said sincerely, looking her straight in the eyes.  
  
"Uh-huh, yeh. Sure."  
  
Her reply sounded hollow, even to her, and Angel knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the young woman in front of him. Not today anyway. Sighing, he closed his eyes for a second, blinking hard, and when he opened them again, Lauren was gone. 


	2. Blood of Me

Chapter One: Blood of Me  
  
~*~  
  
i still have visions of you  
  
i still have nights to get through  
  
and when the trust isn't true  
  
i have these visions of you  
  
"I used to pray for you, you know." The sound of her voice pulled Angel from sleep abruptly, and he sat bolt upright, the bed sheets pooling around his hips. "When the sun set, I would sit on my window sill... your window sill... and pray for you. It didn't even have to be then. Sometimes, I would just be walking down the road, and a breeze would blow from the general direction of here, and I'd pray. That you were safe, and happy -- well, content at least, and making amends like you wanted."  
  
Angel could only sit there, his brain still foggy from sleep, and stare at her open-mouthed. She was here. In LA. In his bedroom, of all places, talking to him about how she prayed for him. Well, used to...  
  
"Used to pray for me?" She smiled slightly, flicking her hair over her shoulder.  
  
"I've stopped lately. There doesn't seem much point. You don't need me to pray for you anymore, do you Angel? You can pray for yourself, now you're complete. Fully souled and all. Your family must be so proud." The last sentence was spat out at him, and he physically curled away from her words. It amazed him how much this woman could wound him, even now, when time should've loosened her hold on him.  
  
"I've felt almost everything that goes on around you since you left, did you know that? I've felt when you were happy, sad, in pain, tired, hungry... I know about the relationships you have, the arrivals and departures. Do you think you can trust her? Do you even recognise her? She'll be important to you; important to us all." Angel looked at her in surprise, his mouth failing all orders to form a response. The subject changes in themselves he was used to, but the actual subjects... he was beyond speechless.  
  
"The prophecy says something big is coming. In six months. Six. Months. I don't wanna die, Angel." Her last sentence was almost sobbed out, and her knees gave out. Angel flung himself towards her, mindless of his naked state in the face of her anguish. He caught her before she hit the floor, and sank with her.  
  
"No," he said firmly, game face to the fore at the mere thought of his mate's death. "You're not going to die, love, or at least not soon. And when you do, you'll be old and warm in bed, surrounded by sticky faced grandchildren who call you 'Nanna Buffy'." She simply smiled at him, running her hand across his ridged face.  
  
"You're a vampire," she said sadly. "You can't give me children." His heart broke at the soft finality in her tone. It told him, leaving no room for argument, that if he couldn't give her children then she wouldn't have any.  
  
"I can't lose you Buffy, I'm not ready to. Not now, not tomorrow, not six months from now... never." He released a loud sob at that, and Buffy's arms came up to comfort him.  
  
"Shh, baby. Shh. You're immortal. Your perception of time is different to ours. You want to know the value of six months? Ask a woman who's lost her baby." He looked at her, clearly confused.  
  
"Ask Lauren," she whispered, and Angel's eyes swirled with a mixture of reactions. Questions flowed through his mind, but before he could ask any, Buffy caught his face between both hands and locked her gaze on his.  
  
Before his eyes her hazel ones clouded over, almost like a layer of smog had settled upon them. When she spoke, her voice was deep and rough, a sound unlike any he had ever heard come from her.  
  
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." And with that, her face contorted into the visage of a vampire, and Buffy lunged at his throat, her fangs sliding in easily.  
  
Once again, Angel sat bolt upright in bed, this time truly awake.  
  
And miles away, in a different city, the Slayer awoke with a gasp.  
  
~*~  
  
and when you got me pregnant i stopped the party and  
i stopped the typewriter and  
i stopped your dumb ball game in the red barn and  
i stopped your father and bled instead  
  
"Oh, have I ever told you how much I adore your hands?"  
  
"Maybe once or twice."  
  
"Love your hands. Magic hands."  
  
"I wouldn' need magic hands if ye weren't so tense. Wha's wrong luv?"  
  
"Oh, I've just not been sleeping so well, and... oh, right there... the baby likes to hold soccer matches inside me... ooohhhh... even in the middle of classes... once again, love your hands." Alex smiled from his position behind his wife, gently massaging her back as she told him about her day.  
  
"Plus, I'm worried. I mean, the end of the year's coming up, and there's exams and I won't be there for my students a lot of the time. Not to mention the Mayor's funky end of the world stuff, and with me like this I can't do anything to help."  
  
"Ye need t' relax. All yer worrying isn't good fer the baby. Buffy's gotten this far, hasn't she? And she has us t' help."  
  
"I know, trust me. Logically, I know that. But those kids are like my... younger siblings -- one of them is my younger sibling -- and I feel all fat and pregnant and totally helpless. God knows Buffy needs all the help she can get."  
  
"An' what about tha Angel o' hers?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I have a feeling that he may be the reason for some of her troubles... Oh, I'm just about to rip my hair out!"  
  
"Don' do tha! I luv yer hair!" Lauren turned over and glared at him and he shrugged, smiling shyly in the face of her reproachful stare. Finally, she closed her eyes and snuggled against him as much as her belly would allow, burying her nose in his bare chest.  
  
"I love this. Just being able to talk at night."  
  
"I luv ye, Laurs. I luv ye, Brighid and the baby we've made inside ye. Ye three are m' family." Alex's hands threaded through her hair at that, combing through the long, silky strands. Lauren sighed, settling herself even more. If she could pick one place to spend the rest of her life, this was where she'd choose. She loved this man more than anything in the entire world, preternatural quirks and all.  
  
"Laurs?" His voice was different, and Lauren looked up at him, her forehead creased in a slight frown. But when she met his gaze, she found herself not looking at the clear blue, love-filled gaze of her husband, but at the hatred-filled, stormy chocolate gaze of the woman that had betrayed her. The fingers in her hair twisted, pulling the strands taught as she yanked Lauren's head up so that it was level with her own.  
  
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." Blood red lips twisted into a smirk at that, and Lauren felt something burst inside her before blood gushed down, between her thighs.  
  
She woke screaming, her hands clasped around her flat stomach, and another woman and man awoke in kind, all three of them separated by more than just distance, and connected by more than a dream.  
  
~*~  
  
i'm talking to strangers  
  
to see what i feel  
  
your face is changing now  
  
and nothing seems real  
  
"I'm having strange dreams again. Strange, recurring dreams."  
  
"Really? What kind of dreams?"  
  
"Angel-type dreams. It's a different scene every time, but we always talk about the exact same things, and I always do the same thing at the end."  
  
"And what is that?"  
  
"I growl at him. 'Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us.' Whatever that means. And then -- then I v-vamp out and drink him."  
  
--  
  
"Ahh. I see."  
  
"No, Wes. I really don't think you do. She turns into a vampire. Fangs, yellow eyes, ridges. Everything."  
  
"Yes, I understand that."  
  
"Do you? I mean, really? Because I sure as hell don't! She's... she's the Slayer. A vampire is the last thing she should ever have to be. Ever."  
  
"Well. what else happens? You said you always talk about the exact same things. What, exactly?"  
  
"How connected we really are. How she knows that we've had a new arrival - Lauren. And how she can help us, with the prophecy, I presume. That's something else she talks about. An Apocalypse, in four months. She's scared she might die, and... she almost breaks down. And then she... always says something that I can never make any sense of."  
  
"Oh? And what is that?"  
  
--  
  
"'You want to know the value of six months? All you have to do is ask a mother who's miscarried a child.' And then I add 'Ask Lauren.' I mean... the only Lauren I -- we've ever met must be long dead by now."  
  
"We don't know she died for sure. She just... disappeared. Like the rest of her family."  
  
"Yeh. Oz is still hoping for a call, I think. Which is totally unrelated... Giles... this prophecy. What's it about? Another Apocalypse? I don't wanna die again... I'm not ready too... I don't want to..."  
  
"It's just a dream Buffy. It isn't necessarily a prediction of the future. Often your dreams have more... abstract meanings than literal ones."  
  
"Oh, so I'll suck him dry abstractly and not literally. I feel so much better now that I know that. Not."  
  
"Well, have you considered talking to him? Calling him?"  
  
"Umm... maybe you're right. It could be nothing. I should just, y'know, wait it out. It'll probably stop. Like, anytime soon. It'll definitely stop."  
  
--  
  
"Yes, that may very well be the case, but what if the dreams stop because she's died, or because the world's ending? It'll be a little late then, don't you think?"  
  
"My mate will. Not. Die. Do you understand?"  
  
"Uh, yes, of course."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Umm... is there no way for you to... change back?"  
  
"No. I'm afraid that the entirely theoretical subject of my mate's death provokes strong emotions. When that happens, my human face tends to take a back seat for a little while."  
  
"Of course. Well... what are we going to do?"  
  
"I don't know Wes. I don't know."  
  
~*~  
  
and am i looking up at the angels  
  
or am i really looking up at the clouds floating by?  
  
and when i say i'm listening  
  
why is it i only hear you when you cry?  
  
"This is another dream, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes and no."  
  
"Yes and no? You can't have both, mo gra. Gotta pick one."  
  
"Well, it's a dream. But it's not the same one you've been havin' lately. They're memories -- which I know ye know anyway -- and warnin's. This is just... a gift. From a good friend."  
  
"Alex?"  
  
"Yes, love?"  
  
"I miss you."  
  
"I miss ye too, Ionuin."  
  
"Will I ever see you again?"  
  
"Yer seein' me now, aren' ye?"  
  
"You know what I mean. Will I ever see you or Brighid again? Truly see you?"  
  
"Only time can tell, m' love, only time can tell."  
  
"I love you baby. Forever."  
  
"An' I love ye too. Always." 


	3. Truth and Bone

Chapter Two: The Calm Before The Storm  
  
~*~  
  
with the light in our eyes it's hard to see  
  
i'm not touched but i'm aching to be  
  
i want you to come, i want you to come  
  
i want you to come walk this world with me  
  
It was past midnight by the time Lauren arrived back at her sub-basement level apartment, and she never thought she'd actually be grateful to see it, but she was. However, as she descended the stairs she was quickly aware of the smell of demon in the air. She couldn't see them, but she could smell them nonetheless.  
  
Sighing, Lauren reached into the back of her jeans and pulled her favourite stake out. They weren't vampires, but years of experience had taught her the hard way that many things could be killed with a stake. It also conveyed an important message; this was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.  
  
When she was far enough down the rickety, somewhat rotten wooden staircase to get a look at the door to her apartment, she bent forward and looked a little further. T'Aker demons, mercenaries for hire mostly, and quite a few of them. If she'd been in her top form, they'd have been no worries. But as it was, she was hungry, tired and injured, and although she could still take them out, she knew she'd be injured pretty badly. With the night's patrol wounds still fresh, and her knee on the verge of dislocating again, that wasn't a course of action she wanted to take. Slowly, so as not to attract their attention, she backed up the stairs.  
  
When she'd reached the street level she broke into a run, heading anywhere that wasn't her apartment building. She ran blindly in the opposite direction for blocks, only stopping when her fear had run itself out. She'd never been afraid before. Numb, betrayed, ecstatic, grief-stricken... those she'd been. But fear, never. Gasping in deep breaths to calm herself and keep the tears back, she squatted down and placed her hands on her sides.  
  
It was then that she noticed where she was. There was a brick wall in front of her, but over the top of it towered what was very obviously playground equipment. A brightly coloured plastic sign hung by the front gate 'St. Paul's Kindergarten'. A Catholic kindergarten. Alex was Catholic, Lauren remembered, holding back a sob.  
  
//"What are you two up to now? Please tell me I won't have to throw you out."  
  
"Laurs, love, I know yer stronger than me usually, but I doubt ye can do anything of the sort in yer current condition."  
  
"I have to agree with Alex, Lauren."  
  
"Oh, you do, do you? Well, do I need to threaten you two with Buffy? Because I will."  
  
"No, no, absolutely not. We're behaving ourselves."  
  
"Good. Because right now it's just too much effort to walk to the phone." Lauren fell back onto the coach, settling into the cushions and folding her hands over her enlarged stomach.  
  
"So, what was it you two were whispering about before I waddled in?"  
  
"The baby's baptism, actually," Alex replied sheepishly. Lauren glared at him, and then at his accomplice, but her stifled yawn ruined any intimidating effect it may have had.  
  
"Alex, we've been over this. I'm. Not. Catholic. No one in my family is, or ever has been."  
  
"But I am. My whole family is. And you KNOW what my mother's going to say if the baby's not Catholic." Lauren closed her eyes, grimacing tiredly at the mere thought of her mother-in-law.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes. But Alex, who else do we know that's Catholic? I mean, the baby'll need godparents, won't it?"  
  
"Well, I'm Catholic," ventured their guest, and Lauren could almost see Alex giving him a thankful smile from behind her eyelids.  
  
"Yes, but you don't count." Lauren said, mumbling through a yawn.  
  
"Oh." His tone caused her eyes to flick open, and when she saw his expression she was quick to amend her statement.  
  
"I mean, you're so old you practically founded the bloody church." She was rewarded with a half-smile for her efforts, which made her feel immensely better. Angel's self-esteem was bad enough; he didn't need to be put down by his best friend's hormonally imbalanced, very pregnant wife.  
  
"I'm not quite that old."  
  
"Yeh, well, you're Irish. You're all Catholic, aren't you? That's why there's so many of you." Alex was still looking at her, puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Lauren managed to hold his gaze for a few moments before she surrendered.  
  
"Look, I'll strike a compromise. But it's just for now, ok? I get Buffy for godmother, since she's the same religion as me, and you get Angel for godfather, since he's the same religion as you. That is, if he agrees." She looked up at that, and was greeted with a look of awed, grateful disbelief.  
  
"Well, sure. I mean, if you're sure you want to do that..."  
  
"O' course we're sure, ye great lug. I can' think o' anyone I'd rather have as godfather." Alex gave Angel a mischievous smile then, as an obviously evil thought popped into his brain. "Besides, I gotta keep ye around fer advice on how to make m'self an even bigger family." Angel couldn't help but smile at that, and Alex revelled in the blush that rose to Lauren's cheeks.  
  
"I can't believe you two talk about that! And around me! I'm fat and bloated, and you're still contemplating... ugh. Get out of here, you two. I wanna sleep, and I'm too lazy and heavy to get upstairs in any way," she ordered around another yawn.  
  
"I can carry you, if you'd like. Your bed'll be much more comfortable."  
  
"Tha's ok Angel. I'll take ye, won't I, m' love?" Lauren smiled sleepily at him, her gaze full of love as she lazily outstretched her arms. Alex gathered Lauren in his arms and carried her upstairs, mumbling to her softly the entire trip. A lazy smile stretched across her features as she lent her head against his shoulder. Angel felt a pang of jealousy travel through him. He'd long since accepted that he and Buffy would never be like Alex and Lauren, their situations were different... and he would never deserve such bliss. Still, during moments like this, he couldn't help but hope.//  
  
She'd caved eventually, of course, and their beautiful daughter had been baptised Catholic. She'd still kept Buffy as godmother though, and Alex had raised no complaint. God, she missed them all. Ached for them, for home. It had been that way since she'd left, but with the dreams she'd been having lately, her feelings seemed magnified, more intense, sharper.  
  
She knew she should have called Angel weeks ago, when the dreams first started. She knew it would've been the right thing to do -- what if her dreams were prophetic? But it hurt that they hadn't recognised her. That he hadn't recognised her. Alex had considered Angel a close friend -- the only other Irishman in Sunnydale -- and the fact that he didn't know her, despite her glamour... it hurt.  
  
Deciding that her pride would have to be pushed to the wayside for this particular occasion, Lauren reached into the back pocket of her jeans and dug out the crumpled Angel Investigations card. It'd sat in her jeans for weeks, and she wasn't sure why she'd never thrown it out, but right now she was thankful she hadn't.  
  
The 'Hyperion Hotel' wasn't too far, about twenty minutes or so on foot, less by the subway. Taking a deep breath and casting one last look at the deserted playground, Lauren turned and walked away hurriedly, looking neither forward nor back.  
  
~*~  
  
my mouth is full of secrets i'm too afraid to tell  
  
my body's full of longing for you to know me well  
  
i move through the day in the rhythms that i've known  
  
i've got this crazy dream of stripping down to truth and bone  
  
"That was definitely an... interesting performance. At least, it was up until when I fell asleep. Did I miss much?"  
  
"No Gunn. And I assure you, it's perfectly acceptable to snore through LES MISÉRABLES! I can't believe you! Who sleeps through Les Mis?"  
  
"Okay, okay. Sheesh Cordy, you wanna tone that down to... ooh, hello."  
  
Angel looked up at Gunn's breathy exclamation, seeing a flash of blonde hair from the edge of his vision. Was it...? But he stopped himself before he finished that thought. No, it wasn't her; he'd have felt it. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head and at first, he didn't recognise her. Her hair colour was different, and her eye colour too, which was a surprise.  
  
"Uh... hi. I'm sorry. Have I come at a bad time? I could possibly, umm, come back later..." Lauren stammered, surprisingly shy around the group of strangers. She recognised the voice of one of the women, Cordy, that guy had called her, and Angel, of course, but none of the others.  
  
"No, no. It's not a bad time at all. Have you been here long?" Lauren shook her head in denial, finding it easier then lying outright, and Angel looked relieved.  
  
"Please, come inside. Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards the door. Lauren made a feeble attempt at a thankful smile, and the vampire returned it, opening the door and ushering her in. When they were gathered inside introductions were made, and they all stood uncomfortably afterwards, no one quite sure what to say or do.  
  
"Well," Angel began, clearing his throat. "How about we sit down?" Everyone seemed to be in silent agreement, because they moved down the stairs and onto the couch without saying a word.  
  
After this there seemed to be nothing left to do to break the ice, and Angel sat down and looked at Lauren intently, awaiting the reason as to why she'd just shown up weeks after their encounter, without so much as a call. Perhaps she'd have a solution to the strange dreams he'd been having. He wondered if she had them as well.  
  
Lauren sat uncomfortably, fiddling with the ring hanging from a chain around her neck. She'd been certain she should come here, but now she wasn't so sure. What should she say? 'Oh yeh, I got scared by a bunch of measly demons, so I ran, and this is the only place I knew to run too'. She could see that going down real well.  
  
The tension was palpable. She could feel Angel's eyes boring into her down turned head, and her thoughts flickered back to Alex's words in her last dream.  
  
//It's okay Laurs. Ye can talk t'Angel. He'll keep ye safe when I can't.//  
  
She still didn't know what to say.  
  
There was another man, wearing glasses and a slightly stuffy air, who was regarding her as intently as Angel, although he was much more discreet about it. She blinked her eyes, focusing on his face, and realised who he was at the same time he realised who she was. She saw the recognition spread across Wesley's face, and searched frantically for something to say before he did.  
  
"I, ah, I came to tell you that there's a wicked nasty nest of T'Akagr demons that's ransacking my neighbourhood. Thought you should know, that's all." She blurted out, standing quickly and heading straight for the front doors. However, in her hurry to reach the door, she tripped on one of the steps. Angel was by her side before she hit the ground, catching her as he often had Cordelia when a vision struck. He steadied her easily, and she took a step backwards, up the stairs. All she succeeded in doing was making herself stumble again, but she caught herself this time, steadying herself a step away from him.  
  
"I take it you need help with them, then?" Lauren's eyes flashed at that, and Angel realised immediately that he'd used the wrong word.  
  
"Help? No. No, I don't need your help. I'm good. You know... how about you just forget that I visited at all. I can take care of this problem fine by myself."  
  
"Really? When you have trouble making it up a couple of steps without stumbling?"  
  
Lauren narrowed her eyes at him, stepping forward so that their eyes were more or less even, given that he was a couple of steps below her.  
  
"You know, I'm sure Les Misérables was lots of fun. It's nice to know you're taking in dinner and a show while the rest of us have our asses handed to us on a plate," she said sharply, casting a pointed glance at the plush hotel interior and their expensive evening clothes.  
  
Angel's eyes flashed, gold mixing with the chocolate brown. He opened his mouth to reply, but he never had the chance to say what would've definitely driven her away for good, because just as he was about too, Cordelia's hands flew to her head and she shrieked, collapsing into Gunn's arms as she was overcome with pain.  
  
"Oh... oh my god... S-Sunnydale... the Hellmouth and-and... Buffy... Willow... and... oh gods, Oz!"  
  
Angel had started for the door on 'Buffy', satisfied that Cordelia would be safe with the others until they could meet him in Sunnydale. The road was quiet, his car the lone one parked by the sidewalk. He was halfway towards it when a flash of denim and blonde hair rushed past him, headed for the same car. Vampiric reflexes enabled him to reach out and grab Lauren just before she was out of reach, pulling her back onto his chest. She jerked away quickly, swivelling to plant a fiery glare on him.  
  
"What?" She spat out, her words dripping with barely restrained fury. The extent of her anger took Angel by surprise, and he bit back a growl.  
  
"What are you doing? Planning on stealing my car to get to the Hellmouth? I doubt you even know where Sunnydale is," he replied, loading his voice with scorn. Lauren looked at him with a mixture of disbelief, disgust and anger.  
  
"Of course I know where Sunnydale is. My fucking brother lives there. I used to live there, wise ass."  
  
"Oh, really? Well, if your brother's just a normal resident of Sunnydale, I truly doubt this'll have anything to do with him at all," Angel replied, settling his weight as he prepared to sink into an argument. Lauren growled at him then, and Angel watched in surprise as her eyes turned a deep emerald green and red streaks appeared in her blonde hair.  
  
"We're wasting time. You wanna make sure Bu -- whoever you're after is okay, and I wanna check on my brother. Can't we just go?!"  
  
"Not until you tell me who you are. Or, more importantly, what you are."  
  
"Neither are anything that should interest you. All you need know is that I won't hurt you. At least, not on this car trip. I need to get to Sunnydale as much as you do."  
  
Angel regarded her for a second, his brow creased. His instincts told him this was a bad idea, but the look of utter desperation in her eyes stopped him from saying no. Opening the car door, he gestured for her to get in, which she did, warily sliding into the passenger's seat. Angel crossed to the drivers' side, never taking his eyes off her, before sliding into his own seat. 


End file.
